Bloody Thursday
by spookyshai
Summary: Small humorous one-shot, a bit of Matt/Karen if you squint. Sometimes Matt smells things no man should know of, at least by Foggy's estimation. Rated for language.


A/N: So this is a little thing I posted on Tumblr awhile ago and somebody requested I publish it elsewhere too… I know it's quite short and the premise is a little strange but I hope you guys enjoy! Thanks for reading, please review if you have the time!

Matt comes into work on a Thursday about ten minutes late. Foggy does not think anything of it, until Matt bumps into a chair and has to catch himself. Then he knows something's up.

Foggy glances at Karen to make sure she isn't paying attention, and then mutters into Matt's ear. "Hey, you okay? Something happen last night?"

"I'm fine," Matt reassures him, but he sounds tense. Foggy frowns.

"Don't play games with me, man. I thought we were done with all the lies and shit."

Matt pushes past him and says good morning to Karen, who beams at him and says "Hi, Matt!". He strolls into his office without further comment and shuts the door. She seems a little taken aback at his abruptness, and glances at Foggy looking for his reaction. Foggy throws up his hands in annoyance and shakes his head at her to communicate that she isn't at fault. Karen sighs, raises her eyebrows and pulls a hefty box of papers from the floor to her desk. Foggy enters his own office with one last glance at Matt's door. Something is wrong and he's _going _to figure it out.

"Is it Hotty McBurnerPhone?" Foggy whispers when Matt gets up to make himself coffee (aware that Karen's attempts at same usually end in disaster). "She come back for a booty call?"

Matt flinches. "No. It's nothing. Seriously, Foggy, leave it alone."

Foggy huffs and goes back to his office.

He then waits forty minutes until Karen gets up to go to the restroom, and then corners Matt in his office.

"Okay, Matt. You're gonna tell me what this is, and you're gonna tell me now. If you've got a problem," he takes a deep breath, "if you've got a problem, it's my job to try and help you find a way out. No matter how bad it is." His voice is firm.

Matt is silent for a moment. "Foggy… thank you. But it's really not that big of a deal."

"So you shouldn't have any problem telling me about it," Foggy counters.

Another long pause. Finally, Matt sighs.

"It's Karen," he says tightly.

Foggy's eyebrows knit together in alarm. "Wait, what? Karen? Is something wrong? Is she in danger? Did she make an insensitive blind joke? What's the deal?"

"No. No, nothing like that."

"Then what is it?" Foggy demands, impatient.

"She… " Matt pauses. "It's, uh - it's her time of the month."

Foggy blinks. "What?"

"I can smell the blood. And hormones," Matt says tersely. "It's distracting."

Foggy's mouth hangs open for a second before he can gather the presence of mind required for a verbal response.

"Oh - oh, _fuck, _Matt, that is _gross! _Have you been sitting in here all day just - _God_, you fucking horndog! I can't believe this!"

"I can't help it, Foggy," Matt snaps. "It's not like I asked to be able to smell everything within a hundred-mile radius."

"Well, hold your goddamn nose!" Foggy retorts. "It's - it's an invasion of privacy, is what it is. On Karen's behalf, I order you to - " He stops and narrows his eyes. "A hundred miles?"

Matt shrugs but does not lose his expression of consternation. "I was approximating."

"Anyway," Foggy continues, regaining steam, "On Karen's behalf, I am… _asking _you, to turn it off. Or something."

"I can't," Matt growls.

"So take a sick day," Foggy suggests.

Matt's eyebrows go up and if he could see Foggy knows he would be on the wrong end of some serious side-eye.

"Foggy," Matt says very slowly and clearly, as if his best friend were a less-than-bright young child, "Female menstruation typically lasts for around _three to five_ days."

Foggy rolls his eyes. "I just rolled my eyes, asshole," he bites out, "although knowing you, you can probably already tell. Just catch the fake flu for a few days. Take some damn you-time."

"I have work to do, Foggy!"

"Yeah, and clearly it's not going to get done if you're sitting in here sniffing Karen's period blood," Foggy deadpans. He is at last triumphant; there's no way Matt can argue with that.

"I'm not _sniffing _\- oh, for fuck's sake." Matt pulls off his shades and rubs his face in his hands. "_Foggy. _I told you it's not that big of a deal."

"Like hell it's not! You - "

The door opens with a creak and Foggy cuts off with a sharp intake of breath. Karen's worried face emerges.

"I heard shouting. Is something wrong?"

"No, Karen, nothing's wrong," Matt says, his voice sounding much calmer. "Foggy and I were just - disagreeing about something."

Foggy stands silent, glaring at Matt.

Karen's eyes go from Matt to Foggy and back. "Well… is it something you guys could use a second opinion on? Or, um, third opinion, I guess. I've always been pretty good at settling arguments."

"No!" say both of them at once.

"I think we can handle this on our own," adds Foggy. "Thanks, though."

Karen's brows go up and her mouth quirks. "Well, okay. Let me know if either of you need anything." Her face vanishes but she has neglected to close the door.

There is a moment of silence as both of them wait to be sure she is out of earshot.

"This isn't over. You are _so_ dead," Foggy stage-whispers and stalks out.

Matt sighs, then lets out an exasperated chuckle and puts his glasses back on.


End file.
